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One time as I was walking through the road, I realized that I didn’t know where I was going. I was moving forward and gaining ground on a destination I hadn’t decided on. Wherever it was that I was headed was not of my choosing. I had been on the road for as long as I can remember and the thought of having no direction made me feel more tired than I’ve ever felt before.

I didn’t like walking in uncertainty so I decided to stop. Once I did, however, a strange thing happened. I kept on moving. Some unquestionable and unyielding force made sure that I couldn’t stay still and pushed me forward. I was not in complete control, merely a slave to the will of the road.

The stage I had reached on my journey had a dull luster. The air was cold and clouds had gathered above me and I could barely see the sun. It was a darkness I had not encountered before. I could remember it being sunny once but the gloom had crept in slowly without my notice.

There were other people all around me on the road. There were hundreds of us, thousands, millions even, maybe more, maybe all of the people were there. I watched them as they traveled on their own journeys around me. We shuffled through the road together in a never ending throng. A herd of humanity.

There were all sorts; men and women, young and old, rich and poor, fat and thin, tall and short. All moving forward. A never ceasing, unending march without a beginning and without an obvious purpose. There was a gentle hum in the air all around. It was the sound of uncertain hope.

Though there were many of us on the road, none moved faster than the another. We all kept the same pace. Some people tried to run and leave others behind but couldn’t. Others, like me, tried to stay in place with similar results to mine. There were others who tried desperately to move backwards to no avail.

Beneath my feet was a path. It was narrow and nobody else walked on it but me. Everyone there had their own little path that they walked on. The great road we were all on was made up of all the individual paths intertwined but distinct. All forming a little part of the whole.

Among us, in between us, above and below us, all around us, was everything. Everything that is and ever was. I looked around as I moved and stared at it. I could not believe how beautiful it was. I took it in for a while and felt at peace. The thought of my own plight could not allow me to enjoy for too long though. I was compelled to look away.

Then I looked at the people around me and saw that most of them walked with their eyes focused ahead or staring at other people and missed all the beauty to be had around them.

I looked some more and noticed some people were trying to step and walk on other people’s paths but of course they couldn’t. This made them angry and their own paths faded with every attempt. Many other people kept looking behind them as they walked and tripped and fell, sometimes getting lost.

There were others there who looked tired and worn out from their journey, their paths looking rugged and somehow steeper than most others. With every step they seemed to stumble, sometimes they would fall. Some of them were strong and stood up each time. A few of them were helped by those around them to get up and keep walking before they found their own strength again.

Some poor souls stumbled, fell and stopped moving forward. With no one there to help them up, they slowly disappeared and their paths vanished from the road completely. One or two actually managed to stop moving of their own accord and they also immediately disappeared.

Some seemed to arrive at their own destinations and their paths branched off from the great road and headed elsewhere. Somewhere the rest of us couldn’t see or follow. Though somehow each of us knew that we would find out someday when we reached our destinations.

Some walked alone on their paths as I did, while other people’s paths seemed to converge. Some people’s paths seemed wider and crossed many other paths. I looked back at my own and as far as could see it was mostly narrow and had converged with others but only briefly. I don’t know why but this made me sad.

I remembered seeking for company on my path. I’d find someone walking like me and we’d talk and walk together for a while. But I’d always grow tired of them or they would get bored of me or we’d start heading in different directions and our paths diverged. Leaving me alone once again.

The great road stretched forward into a pale nothing that was ahead of us all. There was a dull light at the front that only illuminated the place our next step would fall. To our right and left were clear and behind us was clearer still. We were all afraid of the nothingness and what it had in store for us but still we all headed unrelentingly towards it.

Some people lied to themselves that they knew what was ahead but the truth was that none of us knew. None knew because there was nothing to know. The naught was too much for some. They were usually the ones who stopped short on their paths and disappeared.

The more I looked around at the people, the more I realized that the darkness around me was not felt by everyone. The clouds above were only mine. There were those enjoying the sun and it was so bright that I could see it reflecting on their faces and sparkling in their eyes. This made me jealous and angry at first but then it filled me with determination.

I decided I’d not let the darkness falter me. I’d break though the doom and gloom and seek out my sun.

I started walking again with a new conviction. Slowly the clouds began to shift and the murk began to break. Soft rays of warmth struck my face as light teared past the clouds. It was as if a new path had formed beneath my feet and when I looked ahead at the nothing, I felt like I knew where I was going.

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Why is it that I can look at one thing,
in two different situations,
and see two different things?
Perception is a bitch.
A lying bitch.
Deceptive.
I’m looking at something
that I’ve seen before.
It’s the same,
but then again,
It’s not.
It hasn’t changed,
but then again,
I have.
Time and circumstance,
have scared my perception.
Changed it.
Corrupted it?
Now what was
is now gone,
and will never be again.
Somebody else,
never saw what I did at first
and now sees something different still.
Thus most things,
situations,
people,
only acquire the importance we give to them.
Did I say most?
I’m sorry.
I meant all.

Big and Small
Happy and Sad
Winner and Loser
Right and Wrong
are all the same thing.

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It is the fate of man to destroy himself.
As we are now, we are slowly killing ourselves, we have no choice in the matter. It is our very nature to destroy everything around us and leave it bare and dead.
Never before in history has man had the ability to end his and indeed all life on the planet, until now.

And so it shall be.

It could come by many means:

global warming leading to deadly and devastating climate change;

overpopulation leading to the polluting and poisoning of the earth to the point where sustenance of life is impossible;

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The rainy sky is not blue.
The meaningful page is not blank.
The lies you tell yourself will never be true.
The successful man is not well rested.
The great idea helps none while in your head.
The mistakes of yesterday are not with you today.
The girl you will love is not in your dream.
The beautiful sunrise is not at midnight.
The honest mouth is not closed.
The true story doesn’t have to be spoken.
The fulfilling journey is never short.
The sheltered man is not living.
The task wont be completed while you sleep.
The finished work was never willed into being.
The broad attractive road is a trap.
The promised day is not tomorrow, it’s today.

When you find living life is easy
then you are doing something wrong.

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Man’s greatest weakness is his inability to acknowledge his greatest strength.
Man is an animal and is susceptible to an animal’s most primal force; instinct. But, separate from beast, man has the ability to recognize instinct and counter it with rational thought.
Man constantly fails in this respect.
That first impulse he acquires, he grabs on to it and hangs on for dear life. Not giving himself the time to pull away and look at it rationally, utilizing that which is supposed to elevate him high an above all other creatures on this earth.

Reason, constantly, does not prevail.

Although instinct is important and sometimes crucial, a lot of the time it is a burden that debases man’s prominence and dominion over life on this planet. It is our vulnerability to it that resigns us the fate of dying as mere beasts and nothing more. This inability to rise above all other animals, who are themselves slaves to instinct, unable to fight and even recognize their weakness to it, will be the bane that brings forth man’s inescapable fate.

Although we have evolved enough to be able to fight our instincts, we do not seem willing to do so. Doing this, perhaps, would mean us finally accepting full responsibility for all our actions. But it seems that man is not yet ready or even capable of doing so. He constantly rejects his rational side; desperately clings to his precious impulses; denying his higher calling.

This is the great sorrow of human existence.
That we were meant for more, but chose less, much less.

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First of all I have to say that I hate “blog”, not the concept but the word itself.

I can’t remember when I first heard this word but I can probably guess my reaction when I did.

“What a tragedy,” I must have thought “there appears to have been a blog, I hope they clear it away soon and that no one was hurt.”

What I’m saying is that the word doesn’t immediately avail its meaning.

It brings to mind various forms of deep sea creatures blogged on the ocean floor, crustaceans and such.

It sounds like a problem that you would need to call a plumber to fix.

It’s the noise a 50kg, 60-something, female ex-librarian named Agnes would make if she was to fall out of a forth storey window onto a passing parade of bakers carrying pies, cakes and treats.

…”aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh”…BLOG!

I’ve had a negative attitude towards the word ever since.

It was a while until I finally learned its meaning which was no more than a diary, a journal which you write but instead of keeping it under your pillow or in a secret drawer, you put it up as a billboard on the information supper highway where you hope all the people whizzing by will see it and yell “lol” or some other web obscenity; then proceed to tell their friends about it and they pull around for a turn.

Why write a blog?

It’s been done before by everyone including his mother and I’m not usually a follow suit sort of person. Considering how fast the internet changes, having a blog is almost old fashioned, but here we are.

Why should I inflict my thoughts upon the world, people have enough problems as it is.

What could I write about that hasn’t been written before by people much more interesting and smarter than me and in more interesting ways.

The truth is that I’m afflicted by a condition known as “toomanywordsinmyheadiasis”. Thousands of words have been locked up too long inside my head and they are getting restless. They need to be set free, they have cause too much damage, killed too many brain cells. They wonder around in there aimlessly; clogging up my synapses and jamming up my nerve connections. My only remedy is to gather them all together, place them in pleasant company and send them on their way into the cold and cruel world.

Only by giving birth to these “mind babies” will my thoughts become free and clear.

This is my first born.

I cant tell if it’s a boy or a girl.

It’s short, confused and ugly but I like it.

I sing to it “Happy Birthday” and promise some siblings to keep it company.